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by Purplechimera



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Sirius Black & James Potter Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 02:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18111812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purplechimera/pseuds/Purplechimera





	Home

All three Potters are just settling down with their after-dinner drinks when the Floo sputters to life. The distinct sounds of a tavern filled the drawing room, and Regulus Black's head appears in the flames.

“James? Is James available?”

The youngest Potter practically throws himself on the hearth.

“James, thank Merlin. Sirius-” there's a huge clatter, as though someone has dropped a large tray of flatware. “-blasted off the tree. He said-” this time, Regulus’ voice is drowned out by yelling. “music…. river-” Regulus’ head is unceremoniously yanked back, and the connection drops.

James stares at the flames, but they remain stubbornly orange. After several moments, Fleamont kneels beside his son.

“Do you understand that message, James?”

“I-I think so.” His brow knits behind his glasses. “Sirius always talked about a Muggle music shop he found once, when he was visiting Peter. Maybe it's near a river?”

Euphemia brings James his new charmed rain coat, and, with a quiet plea to bring his brother home, sends James out the door.

\---

The wind cuts sharply through Sirius’ leather jacket, even more up here on the bridge than it does when he's standing on solid ground. Even the rain is seeping through his impervious charm, icy drops sliding down the back of his neck and inside his collar. He cocks his head to one side, channeling Padfoot to try and hear the sound of footsteps. Nothing.

Will they come, this time? Does James even know he's out here? He has always known before. Sirius’ hands tremble on the railing, and he's not sure if it's from the cold or nerves. _Please._ He thinks, as loud as he can. _Please take me home._

\---

James stumbles as he tries to avoid crashing into what feels like half of London crammed into the street. _Merlin, why are there so many people here? It's bloody Thursday night and it's raining._ He finds an alcove and presses his lean frame in it, effectively removing himself from the chaos. The extra height he has acquired gives James the advantage over most of the crowd, and he scans for any sign of Sirius. Nothing. 

He finds the music shop, but according to the sign on the door, it's closed because the owner is playing at the pub down the street. Just as he's about to head home, he catches a glimpse of a river through the buildings.

“Bloody hell, Sirius,” he mumbles, pushing his way out of the alley and toward the river. “Why were you so bloody insistent that your bloody parents would find the bloody mirror.” James shoves his hands in his pockets and peers through the rain. 

A silhouette leans against the bridge railing, long hair streaming in the wind.

_Sirius._

James breaks into a run, yelling over the wind. He leaps onto the bridge, tackling Sirius and nearly sending them both tumbling into the river. He pulls back, peering down at his brother through the foggy rain.

“If you ever scare me like that again, I'll kill you myself.” And then James squeezes Sirius as hard as he can.

“Prongs- _Prongs_ -can't-breathe!”

James immediately lets go. “Right. Sorry.” He stands up, reaching down to grasp Sirius’ arm and hauling him to his feet. “Come on. Mum and Dad are waiting for us.” 

Sirius tucks himself under James’ arm and closes his eyes, and concentrates on the hook behind his belly, the tug of side-along apparition that will bring him home.


End file.
